


Rainstorm

by angel1876



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 20:42:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6166195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel1876/pseuds/angel1876
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wendy is not afraid of thunder. </p>
<p>Webber, on the other hand, is terrified.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rainstorm

The fire cackled lowly in the background, the shadows it cast stretching long and distorted out toward the edge of camp. She wasn't close enough to feel any warmth, her back toward the light in a way she would have claimed to be symbolic if anyone asked. Wendy shivered in the chill air, her body protesting in vain. The young woman didn't see why she should move, not when the temperature wasn't low enough to kill her.

Of course, if it was lethal, she wasn't so sure she'd move even then.

Thin fingers brushed soft, pink flower petals, her touch more careful than it would have been had she been holding her own beating heart. A small breath fled her lungs in a sigh. It'd been over a week since Abigail fell anew at the hooves of the beefalo, and she still wasn't ready to come back.

The entire venture had been doomed from the start. That heard was enormous, too tightly packed to separate one of the weaker members easily. Wendy tried to convince her sibling that it wasn't worth it. They weren't starving, and it wasn't yet cold enough to make the fur a necessity, but she'd insisted.

Her efforts did indeed pay off. There was fresh meat on the drying racks, two large, warm blankets, and more than enough fur left over to make a few sweaters out of should Wendy feel inclined to knit. Not that she did.

She'd hardly moved at all since recovering the flower and taking the needed supplies. Abigail wasn't going to be gone forever, but that didn't make her absence any easier to bare. It hurt, like loosing her all over again, and Wendy had only herself to blame. If she could have fought those stupid creatures all on her own, her twin wouldn't have to put herself at risk, and they could just be together all the time.

As it was, she was going to be without her for another week, and then she was going to have to find something small enough to kill so she'd come out.

Another rabbit, probably. A dark smile tugged the corners of her mouth at the thought. Such innocent creatures, born to suffer and be torn apart by bigger creatures. She liked bringing their lives to an end. She'd do it more often, if she didn't think Abigail would be repulsed by the act. Killing for survival was one thing, but killing for fun was a sin.

Abigail wouldn't understand, and Wendy wouldn't have the heart to explain it. For all that the both of them had suffered, for all that they'd lost, her sister hadn't yet realized how terrible and pointless everything was. She could still look at a sprouting plant or a bird in flight and marvel at the miracle of their existence. All Wendy could think of was how those fleeting sparks of life would one day be snuffed out, vanishing as if they'd never existed.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. A low, ominous growl, as if the sky itself meant to threaten the island. The lightening rods would keep the camp safe, but there was no protection against the rain. With a huff, she sat up, whatever thoughts she might have had of sleep vanishing as she threaded Abigail's flower into her own hair for safe keeping. A fresh log was tossed into the hungry pyre, and she positioned herself before the pit. Glazed eyes stared at the flames, barely seeing them as she fell back into her apathy.

Closer to the fire, she started to warm up, tremors easing away from tired muscles. She didn't care enough to be thankful for the relief.

The soft breeze that drifted by to rustle the leaves of the forest carried with it the storm above, blanketing the sky in dark, rolling grey clouds. As Wendy predicted, the first few drops of wet fell down to trickle against her face, a small preview of the torrent that was to come.

Electricity crackled overhead, lighting up the world in a brilliant flash. The girl cringed, the sight harsh against her eyes. A moment later, the boom of thunder followed, loud like a gunshot. A squeal filled the air, and her attention shifted to automatically to the startled movement at her side.

Under the blanket, the figure curled up, and she could pick out the hands as they gripped the thing from the inside, clinging to the warm fur as if it could protect him.

Webber was afraid of thunder, then? She hadn't known that.

She watched him cower where he lay, a tiny whimper reaching her ears.

"Wendy..."

He spoke her name like a plea, reminiscent of her own call for her parents when childhood nightmares plagued her at night. By the time she was his age, she no longer had anyone but Abigail to cry out for. Now she didn't even have that.

"Wendy!"

"It's just noise." she responded, her tone soft under the growing wail of the rain. "It can't hurt you."

Another flash, and the sky roared once more. A scream followed, quickly breaking off into a sob. She had to wonder how he dealt with the storms that came before they'd met. Hidden in a cave? Curl up at the base of a tree?

She turned back toward the fire, still blazing despite the downpour. Just to make sure, she stood and tossed another log into the pit, feeding the flames even as nature worked to put them out. When she sat back down, it was at Webber's side. A simple brush of fingertips over his side through the blanket was enough.

He threw himself at her, abandoning his hiding place to latch onto the blond's waist. His face cast in shadow, he might have appeared frightening, had she not known him. The boy's entire body was coated in thick, course fur, twitching spider legs sticking out at the sides of his head. In the firelight, his eyes seemed to glow, four milky white orbs without pupil or iris. Then there was the teeth, fangs that without doubt held poison, sharp and curved as they stuck out at the sides of his mouth.

Though he had no tear ducts with which to cry from, he still shuddered against her, weeping in fear.

She sat there, rigid, leaning away from the contact. Lips pressed together in a thin line, she regarded him without a word.

Webber really was just a boy, nine or ten years old. She wasn't much older, to be honest, but he hadn't gone through the same things she had. He was still soft, innocent. And he was afraid.

Just like the rabbits, yes.

But also...like Abigail.

She grabbed his blanket and pulled it up over his shoulders, wrapping it tight so as to keep as much of him dry and warm as possible. Curling about the child, she held him close, as if she could protect him from the sky itself should something try to hurt him. It was nothing more than false security. If lightening managed to make it past the rods to strike them, they'd both die.

"It's okay. You're going to be okay."

Gentle words to murmur in his ear as she rubbed at the back of his neck, curling her fingers into the fur.

And though it was a lie, she repeated it for his sake.

"Everything's going to be okay."


End file.
